Games In Marriage
by Chrissy Renee Pinto
Summary: The only reason Aerrow married Cyclonis is because she threatened his team.Now, he is trying to deal with a new threat as King Aerrow but will his friends like the new person. Please Read/Review.
1. Chapter 1

The mist rolls over the land, blanketing the things in its path. The outlines nearly visible through the density. The mist is unlike the clouds that had the tendency to clump and sway together. Every white puff following each other in unison to a destination far beyond the horizon. The line from where the sun awakens to bath the sky in gold-reddish light and drench the white clouds into silver flecked with gold.

The Farside had a Moon; it cast cobalt iridescence on the entire vicinity, deepening the sky to a darker, velvet hue. In the morning, the sun lightened the grounds to an egg-shell blue and the sky became similar to the appearance of a flowing river of water. Yes, things were very different in the Farside. She probably should have planned her travel itinerary before she took the plunge. Not that she even had the intention of entering the Farside. Fingers contemplatively touch the crown of her head before they drag languidly through black, silk tresses. They had certainly grown in length, reaching to brush her pale shoulders. And they glistened, not blue but the darkest blood of violet or maybe it was the crystal dust that had somehow managed to fall on her hair.

The Farside is her home now. No. It her Kingdom. Never mind the indigo shadows and the sun's rays with threads that are sometimes not strong enough to penetrate the heavy mist. She can feel a small grin creep onto her face. It is her new kingdom after the destruction of her old one. It is the power behind a crown that she will never relinquish. Hands grip the arm rests, excitement bubbling under her skin. It is her platform to exact revenge..

"Cyclonis!"

Eyelashes bat in amusement. The grin does not fade but diminishes slightly in quality. "Yes, Aerrow!" She responds with mild coolness in her tone. "I heard you promoted Kilgard to the royal guard." The anger is barely kept from his voice, the indignation understated. The grin fades completely, her face tightens in resolve and she retorts stonily, "That is within my rights as Queen. I felt Kilgard had the qualities that could be of use to me."

"He is a brutal, horrible man who brings pain to all who meet him. He can't even be trusted." Aerrow snaps darkly, eyes narrowing so they flash like freshly cut emeralds. Cyclonis cocks an eyebrow and regards Aerrow with a placid, ostensibly composed demeanor, "Why else would I allow him entry if I didn't think he would be suited to join my ranks." She raises her hand to silence further arguments and she knew more was forthcoming, "I do not appreciate you questioning my decisions. Aerrow" Voice is deceptively low but the undercurrent of annoyed reproach is clear and jagged as shards of glass.

The shards grind into his bones, fuelling the simmering rancor that renders his body taut. "And I don't like it when you ignore me!" It spills from his lips, equally tart. Nimble fingers clench into fists at the brazen defiance that the boy could so fearlessly display. Moreover, his coarse retort begged for an appropriate response. She could feel her power seep from the pores of her skin to play on her fingertips.

"Aerrow." She stands up at her full height to turn on him, eyes flaring in restrained fury that skims the surface of her twisted visage. "Know your place!" Pronouncing each word as if she is dropping a curse on him and the more venom and malicious intent the words have, the greater the effect will be. "The royal guards are my soldiers. They are mine to choose. I command them and they answer only to me."

Aerrow gave her his typical, harsh look of judgmental disapproval, "Well. You need to do a better a job of commanding them. They sometimes terrorize the outer villages." A smile flits across her face, hard and viciously triumphant, "Those are the villages not under my rule. I see it as a fitting punishment for their refusal to join the Cyclonian Empire."

"You can't do that!" A surge of hot emotion erupts in his head and clouds his eyes; the animosity he feels at her transparent sense of injustice emerges as a vivid, intimidating color to his usual cloak of black and red. "You can't terrorize people into joining Cyclonia. It is wrong and I will not stand by-"

"Shut up. Aerrow!" Cyclonis' gaze sharpens; voice strong as steel and it arrests Aerrow to the spot. She takes slow, purposeful steps toward him. "Do not forget that you too belong to me and..so do your precious Storm Hawks" The brutal edge of a laugh bubbling up in her voice as she stops in front of him.

His face stiffens and his mouth, usually shaped to speak words of heroic density, is reduced to a single terse slash, preventing any more utterances of insubordinate thoughts.

"They may be in Atmosia, supposedly safe but I think you know better-how far-reaching my powers are." There is a cutting sneer in her voice and idly, she raises her hand to trace a finger across his cheek. He flinches, her touch is cold, rigid and on his skin, it seems like it gives stimulation to the thing that is eating him up from the inside. "I can end all of you in just one word." Her voice directly into his ear, her nasty condescension resonating so dread curls in his stomach. Casually, her touch turns into a soft, caressing motion that stirs Aerrow's blood with dark disquiet. "I have been very" "Patient" Her teeth bite at the word. " With you!"

Aerrow draws his eyes into little slits, his face blank. "And I should be grateful!" He tries to say it tonelessly, but sarcasm somehow worms its way in. However, instead of angering her, it widens the smile into mocking and ruthless, "No, You should be grateful that you're alive-and married to me." Added as an afterthought, salt on his open wound.

He reacts with thinly-veiled acrimony, "Yes, marriage is one of the top things I am grateful for." Said evenly but the bitterness is not masked enough for her to not notice. She fixes him with an appraising look, the usual pensive glare that made people think of her command over their life and death.

"Sometimes I wonder if it is worth keeping you alive. You're certainly not that much of an attractive arm candy."

"And here I was thinking Master Cyclonis was not shallow."

A small grin climbs to settle carelessly on her thin lips.

"You were the apt choice when I needed a warrior by my side. That is no more the case. I have a more than sufficient collection of warriors. So if you wish to remain in my Kingdom, I expect to hear no more of your insolence." A burning, haunted look frightened and held him captive as did the ominous, stinging words that attacked him from all sides. He lowers his gaze to the floor, an expression of supplication. He cannot look at the satisfied smirk, pleased and tinged with scorn.

She brushes past him, the sharp edge of her mantle, billowing behind her, bit into his cheek and slapped his face. Memories flood his mind and fill him with despair and regret. The self-loathing and self-recrimination like poisoned tipped needles pierce every inch of his fallen body.

'_Cyclonis could kill them all. Piper, Junko, Radarr, Finn. I put their lives in danger every time I decide to act out_.' Nails dig fretfully into gloved palms. '_But I am the King of Cyclonia. I have a duty to the people. I can't just do nothing while she torments them_.' Aerrow heaved a heavy sigh, burdened with sour frustration. '_She can kill my friends with just one flick of her wrist. What am I going to do?'_

The Farside is a turbulent, volatile place for the inhabitants who find themselves within a trap..

**5 reviews for the trouble i put in and I will continue! Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**FIVE REVIEWS!The first time this has happened! Thank you all. But can someone tell me why vengeful lust is not getting as much. PLease. Thanks. Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to my reviewers. great people. U are now designated my muses. I would have nine but no one else is stepping forward. Anyway, I am a lazy writer and I will need encouragement to complete the story, otherwise I will get fed up and give it up. SO muses, help me! I hope you enjoy the next installment. Ciao.**

"_There was a friendly, but naive King_

_who wed a very nasty Queen._

_The King was loved, but_

_the Queen was feared._

_Till one day strolling in his court,_

_an arrow pierced the kind King's heart._

_He lost his life and his lady laughed_." -Berceuse

Cyclonis marches in the direction of her crystal chambers, hands swinging by her side. The conversation with Aerrow replays monotonously in her head. His insolent, fearless voice hardened to a strong timbre feeds the steadily growing frustration racing like fire through her veins that in turn supplies the trickles of anxiety into her body. He was getting too vocal in his disproval of the way she exerted her command on the lowly Pleasants. At least twice, he even went so far as to disobey outright a direct order from her. It was more than a little 'worrying'.

'_Why did I think even for a little bit that Aerrow would willingly give up his annoying Sky Knight righteousness_?' Then she recalls fondly, a slow smile creeps sinisterly to twist her facile into an expression of dark delight. _'The look on Piper's face.' _Forlorn, angry and did the master dare hope, protective jealousy. She had actually crawled, well not in the literal sense but it was quite wonderful, the pitiful sight Piper made out of herself. "Take me instead. I will happily serve you." Eyes full of desperate pleading; trying to invoke a stirring of sympathy in the barren wasteland Cyclonis called a chest.

One eyebrow rose in derision and a cruel, cutting smile danced on the Master's lips. The young girl's features deepened to become more warped and deranged. Fear glimmered in Piper's eyes, followed by bitter, vapid acceptance and her shoulders slump; leaning her body toward the floor. It was surreal. Like a dream, seeing strong Piper appear so weak and helpless before her, so defeated. Even Aerrow showed more restraint than her and Cyclonis told her in the nastiest of terms, burning acrimony derived from Piper's refusal of such a generous offer was poured as contemptuous disparagement all over the crushed girl.

"I would like to Piper!" Said with a snide, chilling calm, "And while I am slightly impressed with your progress-Aerrow has more of the skill that I require to fulfill my needs." The last sentence carried a discernable suggestive tone. Piper's face reddens and she looks away, dismal apprehension splayed so wretchedly on her face. She didn't like the thought of her precious Aerrow with another woman, least of all her worst enemy.

The other Storm Hawks at least kept their opinions to themselves and shrank away from her presence if only a little. But their miserable and indignant acrimony, so fresh and passionate, radiated from them like the outer cloak of the sun. She wished she could bathe in it.

Abruptly, her stride change to lighter steps and some of the tension from her body eases away. Reminiscing on her moments of victory is a great stress reliever especially when they involved the Sky Knights. A baleful chuckle descends from her distorted smirk. '_It would be less troublesome if Aerrow remained as subservient as that day.'_

She stops at the ornate door, recognizing the intricate carvings as hers. Reaching into her pocket, she pulls out the key and opens the door. The click sends a sizzle of electricity through her arm but she is unfazed, barely wincing. The electricity is a second safety precaution.

She enters, a ripple of approval across her face on noting the group gathered. "Master Cyclonis!" More waves of gratification for their use of her former glorious title. Queen is tainted in the needless relationship with a King. The Queen didn't have her own private loyal army. "My Royal Guards. I hope for your sake-you have good news to report."

August steps forwards, beads of sweat dot his brow and globules of mud cling to the curves of his oval face, "Sorry Master Cyclonis. But we have been unable to find the crystal." He said succinctly, hurriedly, bracing himself for the onslaught.

Her face condenses into a smoldering, scowling visage that slices right through the army with frigid chills. "I do not have the time to deal with your weak excuses." Snarls severely and they tense because of it, like the crack of a whip embedded with spikes she intimidates them. "If you continue to fail me, I shall put you back in with the prisoners so you can all rot, which is what you deserve."

"Aren't you planning on freeing the prisoners someday?" Ugh spoke up meekly. Cyclonis turns on the reptile, narrowing her eyes into a concentrated glare of reproach for daring to speak out of turn. He sinks into the shadows; the clatter of his wobbling knee caps follows him. Cyclonis straightens, squares her shoulders, then gives each one of them a piercing look. "I do plan on giving freedom to the lowly scum that currently dwell in the underbelly of the city but not for a very long time." There is her own brand of special emphasis on the last part. "The reason all of you find yourselves enjoying freedom is because I need your skills. If you do not prove yourself to be useful. You will be needed no longer. Alive that is!" Words carry the bone-chilling tenacity stronger than the twilight chill.

She studies the faces of her chosen soldiers, making sure the clarity of the message is absorbed completely. She is pleased to find traces of fear, mild aggravation and most importantly, strengthened resolve. "Good, if you have nothing to report." Makes a dismissive wave with her hand but stops in mid-motion when Screech steps forward. Face is pinched and stoic but there are tremors of a disguised feeling across her narrow face, "We did manage to find something." It evokes fresh intrigue in the master. Then, Cyclonis curses her foolishness for displaying her interest so plainly because a small curve appears on Screech's lips and a light flickers in her eyes. She held it out to her master in her claws, one bandaged in splotched cloth, nails tap on metal. As soon as it enters the bright light, scintillations bounce off its surface, silver, red and gold. The colors, a beautiful symphony to portray the mighty status of the person, the glory and the trust. Cyclonis utters a breathless gasp, eyes misting. Everyone is suddenly rendered rigid and speechless, watching the myriad of emotions alter her sharp, coldly impassive face. The Royal Guards look at each other, confused, perplexed and at a loss for words. The vulnerability that laid the Master raw and nearly child-like is disconcerting.

Screech brow furrows in consternation, eyeing the woman before speaking with albeit trepidation, tone clear and straight, "Master, Are you all right?"

Cyclonis opens her lips to reply or rebuke or even snap but nothing leaves the arid base of her tongue. She is struck numb by disbelief and silent by the guilt that nibbled at her conscious. It sometimes kept her awake at night. The weight of loneliness and depression pressing down on her until she felt the overwhelming urge to scream until the ceiling fell on her.

Tentatively, fingers caress the insignia, remembering. It is warm to her touch and gritty and weathered. And she can almost imagine the barest hint of his masculine, sweaty scent waft from the metal he wore like a second skin.

Screech wonders what the hell was wrong with the Master. The shield is nothing more than a piece of damaged armor, useless except for the scrap pile. The way the Master is affected, it is as if the armor held some extraordinary fascination. The only reason Screech bought it forward was because of the insignia she had been able to distinguish under the thick layer of grime.

It suddenly filters through, where Cyclonis is and why she cannot behave in such a manner. Abruptly, her apathetic demeanor shrouds her once more and her gaze sharpens. "Where did you find this?" She demands sternly. "On one of the Outer Lands." Screech bit her lip, her small tusk digging into her pudgy bottom lip, after this she asks the pertinent, frightening question, "Why?" "It belonged to someone." Cyclonis answers, deciding it is best to answer if she needed their help. "He was someone of great importance." The question is on the verge of their lips and all it takes is one second more before she is suffocated by the clamor of old, tarnished memories. She can feel the ghost of bile, bitter and burning at the back of her throat. And in her mind's eye, a girl stepped off the platform and ran. Searching, needing, wanting but alone. Ashes trailed behind her from her fingertips, her skin, her hair and from her tears. Then, she falls to her knees and heaves until her throat is dry and itchy and her tongue tastes like sour rancor but she cannot rid herself of the sick, deep-pitted feeling in the hollow of her stomach. That was her first response to entering the Farside.

"His name was Dante." Voice is low, steady and on the brink of reverent and it catches in her throat like cotton on thorns, "Others called him the Dark Ace."


	3. Chapter 3

Aerrow walks, his footfalls resound in the empty stillness of the hallway, thuds like the rapid steps of a trapped lion. The noise reaching to disrupt the shadows. Shadowy shapes and empty noises, the chill that hangs plainly in the air, they plague him. Sometimes leaching into his body to wrap around his chest in an icy, death grip. Nevertheless, he trudges onwards in this place with its own darkness and sullenness. From the corner of his eye, he notices the stairways leading to the second floor. He takes it. Not because he needs to but because he wants to-out of some urge he cannot place, maybe restlessness. He climbs and all the while his thoughts are muddled.

Aerrow hates this feeling of aimlessness, he was once a leader. Now, he had no idea what he is. He reaches the second floor landing and then makes the turn right. He would walk until he reached another door that appealed to him.

The former Storm Hawk has not an inkling of what he intends to do or where he wants to be. It is the act of standing inert that is disturbing to him, waiting. "King Aerrow." A voice calls to him and he stops to turn around. It is Gideon, hurrying towards him. "King Aerrow." He gave a small bow of respect which Aerrow returned. There was a time when the mere action would cause feelings of discomfort. They have dwindled away.

"I wish to remind you of the day after tomorrow. Master Cyclonis has not spoken to me of any plans. However, I felt it prudent to discuss with you about possible events that can be organized." He is talking rapidly; his ashen wizened face usually sunken and emotionless is now animated.

"Gideon, what are you talking about?" Aerrow interrupts quizzically. Gideon's large orbs blink and he looks at Aerrow expectantly, a crease on leathery skin. "Surely, you know that in two days time it will be the birthday of Master Cyclonis." Aerrow clears his throat and looks away. However, he can feel the heat of the older man's disapproving, reproachful stare.

"You forgot!" He mummers with deadpan dryness, clearly unhappy at the young man's lackadaisical approach to married life.

"I was so busy with Kingdom affairs that I totally forgot!" Aerrow fumbles over his excuse, avoiding his eyes.

"You shouldn't forget something as important as your wife's birthday!" Gideon scolded, face set in a stern countenance, "It is unforgivable for a good husband to neglect his wife. Not to mention the strain it will have on the marriage." Aerrow resists the urge to roll his eyes and purses his lips against any careless admissions. Gideon is a trusted courtier of the Kingdom, bearing the crest of a royal servant to the Cyclonian Empire. Aerrow was pleasantly surprised when he found that he quite liked the man, helpful and sagely with none of the evil traits that he expected from Cyclonians. At least he had very few of them.

He willingly offered his assistance to Aerrow even when the latter felt it was unnecessary and a bit intrusive. An example is now; Gideon is a relentless in his attempts to repair Aerrow's fractured marriage, bequeathing hints, tips and sometimes even cajoling Aerrow into performing little deeds for the Master. It is regrettable that the man couldn't see the harsh, bitter truth. The marriage was no more real than a piece of glass masquerading as a shard of crystal.

Unfortunately, Gideon is of the opinion that marriage is a sacred contract and irrespective of circumstances, it should be honored. The man had the kind of principles that would be embarrassing to most Cyclonians-much like Aerrow since he had adopted his wife's identity.

"So what do you suggest I do?" Aerrow asks. '_Whatever it is-I might as well get it over with rather than antagonizing the one friend I have.'_

"How about a party?" Was the response.

A wave of pity washes over Aerrow at the bright enthusiasm that bought vigor to the feeble body of the old man. Cylonis would certainly not appreciate it. "I don't think she would like it and a huge party would require more than a day of preparation." Gideon nods in agreement as he mulls over Aerrow's words. "Yes and Cyclonis is not exactly a party person-except when it comes to executions." He chortles, the sound like a wheeze of air and a rattle of teeth. Aerrow forces a small laugh from the confines of his mouth; it tasted sour on his tongue as memories came unbidden. Sometimes, their huge accusatory eyes burning with desperate pleading accosted him.

"Maybe a small intimate dinner would be preferable." Gideon's tone is mischievous with suggestive hints while his eyebrows waggle playfully. "You and the Master could get reacquainted. Talk about the time you met and how your love has progressed." Aerrow had undue respect and had been taught to be courteous to elders but he had to guffaw at the idea. It is just too ludicrous. "Sorry Gideon, but the story of how I and the Master met is not a timeless tale."

"Well, she seems to think it was-timeless and romantic I mean." He refutes stubbornly, lips thinning as he crosses his arms rigidly across his chest.

Aerrow tilts his head and regards the Courtier with a curious, probing gaze, "Really, What did she say?" "It was hardly love at first sight but something close to it. You made an impressive first impression and that was what sparked her interest. You wooed her."

"Wooed?" Aerrow repeats, raising his eyebrows in incredulity with confused disbelief written all over his face. For a second, he considers the idea that the man has gone senile. However, Gideon's eyes are lucid and self-assured, the edges of his worn lips curling into what appears to be an amused, impish half-smirk. "Yes, with flowers, crystals and little trinkets she had to relinquish before coming to the Farside. Master Cyclonis was very unhappy about the loss. It bothered her deeply." "Uh Huh." Aerrow mutters, wondering what the hell Cyclonis was thinking feeding this garbage to Gideon. Was she on something? Maybe the crystal dust finally scrambled her mind. No, aside from the common bouts of capricious insanity, she was normal.

Gideon continues, oblivious to the nature of the thoughts tumbling in the King's head. "She narrated this beautiful tale." Eyes twinkling, "You were badly injured in a fight and the doctor confined you to bed rest. But you couldn't restrain yourself for five days. All you talked about was finding a healing crystal to repair her smashed photo crystal that meant a great deal to her. It was the only hologram of her as a young girl and her Grandmother, the late Master Cyclonis. Once you were healed, you scored every Terra and fought dangerous battles until you found one and bought it back for her. All to win her heart." His face is split apart by a wide, beaming smile. "That was the moment she was absolutely smitten with you."Giving the words a resonance which builds into something marvelous and meaningful, a kind of passionate gesture.

A wry lift of his brow and a sideways, disaffected glance is all the emotion Aerrow will betray. There is something oddly familiar about the story, certain words leap at him. Healing crystal, five days, Aerrow injured and battle. They meant something. Then it struck him. The episode of Cyclonis' attack, Aerrow had been injured and stuck in a healing pod while the rest of his friends fended off the assault on the Condor. She stole Piper's healing crystal. "Now to finish off one of my biggest annoyances once and for all!" Right, that was a declaration of her undying love.

It was insane. Why make up a story around that event? Why take an insignificant battle and romanticize it and twist it into something far from what had happened. Maybe it was part of her devious, deceitful personality. But how sick did you have to be to get your jollies from manipulating the elderly. Moreover, creating a tragic tale of a broken photo crystal containing a picture of the dead Grandmother. It was as if she was deriding him and his team behind his back by involving him in such nonsense. The Master Cyclonis he knew is certainly not sentimental. And the idea that the former Master Cyclonis would stand for a picture, say cheese and flash a smile. She was least notorious for smiling.

The girl's warped sneer with its evil connotations mock him in his mind. Hands ball into fists by his side. His eyes are unwavering and hot with imagined insult, alerting the attention of Gideon who had so far been divulging the lies Cyclonis had whispered fraudulently to him. He observes the stiff, tense posture of Aerrow and takes note of the tightness of his boyish face, eyes flashing as violently as a distant whirling storm stirring along the flanks of the sky. Immediately, remorse hangs on his face like a shroud and his aged lines deepen in sorrow. "I am so sorry, My King." Dragging Aerrow from his simmering, opaque cloud of bitter indignation.

"I would not have spoken so freely if I had known how you would feel about it. Certain information is privy to only the young couple who have experienced such tests of their love and devotion." Aerrow wishes he could smack his head with the palm of his hand. Evidently, Gideon has misconstrued the reason for Aerrow's anger. "It is fine. Gideon." Aerrow says evenly, plastering an easy grin on his lips.

Gideon levels a tender gaze at Aerrow, voice emphatic, "The two of you were madly inlove long before you made the terrible decision to join the Storm Hawks. I am sure you can regain some of your previous affection." Aerrow narrows his eyes, a tick on the corner of his clenched jaw. When he speaks, not a thread of ill temper that squeezes his lungs tangles in his voice, "What did she say about the Storm hawks?"

"They were the reason you broke it off with her. They filled your head with such thoughts that you were mislead into betraying the one girl you have ever truly loved. " _'She made the Storm Hawks out to be villains in her warped little game.' _He thought darkly.

Inwardly, Aerrow winces at the compassionate understanding Gideon openly displays, it almost appears like he is reaching for a hug. Aerrow has no use for it but to treat the man unkindly, he was the one who had been cruelly deceived, it would be wrong. So, Aerrow releases a strained laugh and agrees, "Yeah. I did love her and I still do. She is my world." The words thick and itchy are pulled from the arid tunnel of his throat. "Help me Gideon, What should I do for her? I want the day to be extra special- we **are** married." His show of exaggerated gusto carefully drowned the sarcasm and ill-will. Inside his head, he fumes amongst his private thoughts. '_No party. No date. The only thing she deserves is an ugly confrontation!'_

**Ok, after this. I am going on hiatus. Thank you for the kind reviews. One thing thought, could you please give me some constructive criticism-tell me what you liked or didn't. I would really appreciate more encouraging reviews. And if you are going to alert my story, could you please also review it. If you can press one button for alerts, is it too much to ask to press one for review with a kind comment. Thanks bye for now!**


	4. Chapter 4

The pounding drizzle of water from the shower head, echoes in his ears and is brutal on his skin. He raises his head to welcome the hot force on his face. Fingers rake through his hair, strands plastered to the side of the face. Bracing himself against the bathroom wall, he lets the water roll down his back, off his bunches muscles to flow down his rigid spine.

"No matter where Cyclonis is she is still a threat and it is the storm hawk's sworn duty to go after her!"

Fingers clench into fists as they rest shakily against the metal wall. He is tempted to ram them into the structure and he literally has to fight the urge down. Those words. Those pitifully self-righteous words, spoken in honor and valor. They taste caustic as he repeats them and burn like fiery ashes on his tongue. Aerrow had been the one to advocate them onwards, to leave behind everything they had ever known, friends and comrades and friendly skies for a dark, mysterious place. They took the plunge because of him. They suffered because of him.

Face jerks with self-recrimination and his mouth falls open in a silent anguished scream. The water sliding down his throat builds on the suffocating pressure that threatens to turn his insides into mulch.

'_If I hadn't made the decision for them. If I hadn't been so fixated on that Bitch.'_ Breath hissing out between clenched teeth. '_Then none of this would have happened_.'

The insistent thrumming against his cranium increases in intensity until all his thoughts are drowned in a distant, persistent heavy beat-the call of his damnation. '_We had drums play at our wedding. Why? I had asked her and she just smiled. All her answers are wicked smirks and rotten lies._'

He didn't want to but the memories hit him. With a vivid clarity that is almost blinding, pricking the delicate irises of his eyes. It is painful to watch. Every detail carrying a sharpness that penetrates through his skull.

_She stood before him;__ her amethyst eyes were all sparkling mischief and absinthe fire, demonic innocence and vicious spite. He faced her boldly, chin thrust out and eyes smoldering with hate. He loathed everything about her, she is a vice to everything he stands for.._

_"Aerrow. I knew you were a pig-headed fool. Although jumping into the Farside for me-It is flattering." Voice imbued with the oily, serpentine slither of a snake and edged with sharp scorn. "My pleasure but don't get your hopes up. I treat all evil threats to Atmosia the same." Narrowing his eyes, his attitude was cocky. Eyes were slanted windows of malicious intent and her lips curved upwards in a mocking sneer, "Yes. You Sky Knights are annoyingly persistent when it comes to ruining my plans. Pity, none of you had any foresight and lept through the door without thinking. Did you really think the Storm Hawks were so great that they could survive in the Farside, Cyclonian territory. You badly misjudged the situation." _

_A small but smug grin flittered on his lips and it had the effect of knocking a few points off her deathly victorious glow. "From the looks of it. Your Empire is looking smaller than it did before. Thanks to us."_

_The sunken and sallow veil that draped her features exacerbated by the lining of blackness and shadows deepened. Lightning flashed across her face and gave her the appearance of a deranged, nasty banshee. "That is so true." She muttered with venom, hot and thick curdling her tone, "Which is why my revenge will be twice as sweet." The unpleasantness she emanates begins a gnawing, worrying feeling in the pit of his stomach, "Permanently grounding you is not enough. I have something better in mind. More satisfactory" _

_Warning bells went off in his head. "What are you going to do to us?" He questioned, giving her a narrow look. A smile breaks her morose façade, adding a touch of color that is out of place. "What am I going to do to you" She repeats mirthlessly, eyes luminous in ominous glee. The kind that invoked frigid shivers to rake down the ridges of his spine, solidifying into ice cubes in the hollow spaces of his body. "What I needed to do to you Storm Hawks," Forcing into his personal space, a vision of vile repute, "I have already done!"The words held menacing resonances which build into something cataclysmic and evil. _

Fingers twist the knob of the hot water. Remaining for a few stolen precious seconds in his white iron-clad grip. Eyes are drawn reluctantly to his chest, the rutted scar standing out fiercely in the bright light. The color of her, sinister violet, liquid darkness and bitter crimson, mixed to create an abomination that marred his chest. Just looking at it causes him to be hit by a crippling wave of sickness that made him unsteady on his own two feet. The temperature drops, the chill bites into his bones. He is remembering all too clearly.

Their faces. Horrified and upset, fearful and concerned.

"_Aerrow, No. You can't be serious!" Sadly, it was visible for them all to see. HER terrible mark, jagged wounds scratched sadistically into skin. "Wait! Cyclonis saw me naked!" Finn shrieked. They had given him a look in unison. The last one they had ever shared. "She probably infected me with a 100 different diseases too after she finished with me." Stork choked out, unstable panic increasing the pitch of his voice to almost shrill, shaking nervously. "One microbe will eat my brain, another will attack my liver and- Oh No- what will happen to my feet!' Aerrow had bequeathed him one final compassionate look and wished it was as simple as that-a few diseases they could live with-but what she had actually done to them- it was worse than a death sentence._

Reluctantly, he grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist. All it had taken was one mistake; they trusted the wrong people, behaved naïvely-No-those people were victims too. Cylonis' poison polluted far and wide in the Farside, it is embodied in tendrils of evil that capture helpless people in her grasp.

And now she had help-his. The stricken expression on those people's face, aghast and disgusted, the sting of reproach pierced him. They knew less of hope and are now embittered to it, on having perceived the noble Storm Hawk , who once promised and gifted them freedom, force them into servitude again, the present worse than the last since Cyclonis knew nothing of mercy.

The minute he stepped out of the bathroom, the refreshed feeling evaporated replaced by the dry tickle of discomfort and uncleanness. He had asked for his own room but she had flat our refused, cornering him with another condition-they had to share a bed. He took a few steps forward and stopped.

**Ok, Thanks to the guys who are reviewing. I love you lot. One favor, please stop using the phrase, 'Keep it up'. I haven't had so many since I was practicing cursive in grade school. Thanks, make the review as flattering as possible because I love those kind of reviews. Look for the next chapter soon. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Ok, warning, this is kind of unsuitable to anyone other than those above 16. so if your underaged, STOP READING!and Invader Insane, you're my favorite reviewer. You really succinctly captured the heart of my story and I love that!**

Nowadays, it is unsettling but he finds he can discern her shape in the cocoon of shadows. Head is tilted upwards and her shoulders are hunched, almost protectively over something. Silently, he tip toes to stand behind her unaware silhouette comforted by darkness, whatever it is seems to have her in rapt attention. The green crystal cast a shimmering glow on her face but it is the picture in the heart of the glow that is the reason behind the watery glaze to her eyes. It is the Dark Ace and her, his characteristic sneaky grin curved sinisterly on his lips; however the bright gleam in his red irises gives one the impression of amused affection and his stare is directed at the girl in his arms, in an embrace that is shockingly gentle and protective. Aerrow has to blink a couple of times to comprehend his vision because it is indeed an oddity seeing Cyclonis in such a vulnerable state. Head rested against the Dark Ace's chest, face peculiarly free of the severe lines and emanated iciness. Even her lips were relaxed in an easy, inclined towards carefree streak. 'When was this taken?' Aerrow wonders, it must have been an unusual occurrence, one so absolutely absurd that whoever snapped it did so because he doubted reality.

Cyclonis rests her chin on her folded fingers, stare looking beyond the structure of the photograph. Snipe had taken the picture because he had thought they looked cute together. And the bizarre thought had somehow gotten into his head that Cyclonis would be pleased with the proof of a potential suitor. Why she had not taken that as a sign to exile him sooner, Cyclonis couldn't fathom. Dark Ace was-is-she can't say a friend because even he would be irked with the title but something inside her twisting and spinning- prods her with it. Was it regret, shame and maybe even some small flicker of buried loneliness?

A sudden change in the steady breeze. An abrupt whiff of a moist scent. Instincts instruct and she jumps, whirling around to confront the intruder. Aerrow is thrown backwards as the full force of her power hits him; an intense burst of pain, singeing his skin. He lies on the floor, pain scissoring through his body. Face contorted and small grunts are thrown from his lips.

"Aerrow." Her dour glower is challenging, asking a silent question and the barest hint of self-satisfaction tweaks the corner of her lips. "What is the meaning of this-Why were you spying on me?"  
Aerrow struggles to break free of the pain-induced haze, the wound on his chest still smarting.

"I wasn't trying to spy on you. Stop being so paranoid." He mutters uncharitably, rubbing the back of his head. Pain throbs in different parts of his body and he can't decide which needs the most attention. She caught on the undertone of irritation.

Her brow arches, face warps into menacing, hostile contours and she bares the points of her canines, "What were you doing in here? You shouldn't be here."

Aerrow flinches after which he is filled with fresh strengthened resolve. He climbs to his feet and faces her, his own indignant fury carefully contained but his eyes are blazing, "This is my bedroom as much as it is yours. Remember." The caustic, razor edge of his tone shocks her slightly but nothing is betrayed on her face. "It was you who decided that we should share a bedroom." The brittle sourness only grew as the words left his mouth in an undercurrent of rancor, "I was having a bath. I came out to find you here and looking at the picture of Dark Ace."

The acrimony melts away as she regards him with something akin to amusement, hoping to halt a line of questioning she doesn't want.

"Is that the reason why you're naked?" Voice is smooth, on the brink of jest and Aerrow could have sworn he saw her waggle her eyelashes at him.

The swirl of cold air around his nether regions provoked him to look down. The fact crashes into him-he is completely naked, the towel having been lost in the flight. "Crap!" He hurriedly covers himself with his hands, feeling his cheeks burn with dismay and embarrassment.

"We are married. Aerrow. It is only natural I see you naked." A smile dances on her lips, lascivious, battling her eyelashes. There is a suggestive glitter of desire in her depths and under the light of the moon breaking through the clouds and the glass of the window; it gives her the appearance of a predator. Aerrow backpedals, fear trickling into his veins but he tries to maintain a stoic demeanor and sets his lips sternly. Tension tightens his muscles into thick cords and Cyclonis watches the movement in fascination. Aerrow closely resembles an interesting, primal animal lost in a strange habitat. The wary spark of fire in his eyes and his lean muscular frame, tightly packed for action, is very enticing. And every time he takes a breath, it expands almost in an intimidating, aggressive manner.

The distance between them is swallowed in two long strides and she is near enough for him to feel extremely uncomfortable. Moreover, the salacious tint to her gaze is more than a little disturbing. "Cyclonis. Get back." He attempts to growl but a weak, alarmed squeak is all too audible. The smile broadens and brightens immeasurably because of it. "Or what?"

The lilting caress to those two words pours a waterfall of ice down his body. Eyes wide and brimming with unconcealed dread. The grate of her stare on his body made his skin crawl. Hadn't she taken enough from him already? Was it not enough that she turned him into a pawn, used him as a tool to further her destructive nature. She forced him to abandon his friends- tore his ideals apart- tarnished his reputation as a noble Sky Knight-Now, she plans to add on another layer of disgrace by –molesting his broken body.

One finger rises to stroke the sleek curves of his chest. Skin is hot, practically burning under her touch. She can feel the heat of his glare upon her but it only produces a vapid chuckle, "Oh, No need to be so modest. Aerrow. You are a fine specimen." His muscles tighten to thick ridges and stiff lines as breathing became deep and heavy.

Casually, Cyclonis is going to let her gaze dip lower. To tell the truth, it is not something she is looking forward to-just plain curiosity and more humiliation to heap on the Sky Knight, is why she is behaving so recklessly. If not for toying with on levels that tested his meaning of the word twisted, then there were very few other uses for the Sky Knight.

So her gaze strays to his abdomen, but before she can take in below where his hips flare to-he grabs her neck and the hand that was tracing a path to the prize, in an iron-grip. A feeble cry escapes unwittingly. He throws her brutally onto the bed with him on top. Due to the sudden, forced movement her stomach clenches in queasy terror.

His green eyes bore down on her, sharp-edged like shards of glass and radiating animalistic fervor. Aerrow can feel her pulse hammering wildly against his fingertips. For a split second, a scared, vulnerable girl emerges, fearful and trembling of the terrible beast that threatens to devour her. And in a split second, she is swallowed by the callous serpent with her cruelty and evil carefully molding her warped visage. "Get off me! Aerrow" Eyes pitted in baleful ferocity.

His own twisted smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, "Isn't this what you wanted?" He coos in a perverse sort of manner that invokes shame to befall him like the weight of the world on Atlas and silently he curses the bitch for 'encouraging' him to sink so low.

**This is seriously just torture for Aerrow because I hated the way Storm Hawks ended. One, the binding is evil and hurts Piper yet all it takes is one speech from Aerrow to turn it al around. They have been partners and friends so long and suddenly they become attunded. Then the sudden allergy reaction to Raddar . How lame was that! Then, the blowing up of Dark Ace. One minute MC is a stratergist, then she becomes a unreasonable lunatic that accidently blows up her commanding officer. It was all so convinient .Anyway, kids show, I get it. If you are replying then please do it on Private message because I hate it when reviews are used to discuss other stuff than the story.**

**For the Alert mongers, you better be allergic to the review button or have some good reason why! If you can alert, then review otherwise shame on you!  
**


	6. Chapter 6

'You are a mistake but fortunately, mistakes can be rectified.'

'You know what you have to do. It is only way to avenge your mother and restore the family honor.'

'If your existence is to be recognized and –accepted. You need to be the one to kill him!'

She studies their faces; the pensive uncertainty wears down their features. They are obviously reluctant to accept her offer. 'Useless Dumbasses.' Her thoughts are dark but nothing is betrayed on her calm, impassive countenance. Starling steps forward, "How do you know how to reach the Farside?"

She shrugs by way of answer, "I just studied a lot in the Royal Library. It is easy if you have the time." _'And you have revenge on the mind!' _But it is secluded to her private thoughts. "So, are you in?" Raising her eyebrow questioningly, letting her gaze wander over their faces that display varying degrees of emotions but she can discern a very crucial one, loyalty.

"Yes. We have to return for Aerrow." Insistence and enthusiasm rings in Piper's voice and her eyes are luminous with the need for her friend. "But if we do return." Stork's voice is saturated in weary, twisted dryness and emitted in a harsh scratchy tenor, "She said she would kill us. One snap and our insides become our outsides. There is no hope. The next door neighbor to my heart says so!"

Piper bristles, hands ball into fists, "I told you guys. I neutralized the crystal. We are in no danger of Cyclonis' power."

"Then, why don't we remove it from our chests." Finn argues, brow winging up dramatically, "I don't like carrying the extra weight."

"Then don't have seconds with breakfast, lunch and dinner."Junko said perkily but a small smile surfaces despite the snide words, "We have to rescue Aerrow. Who knows what she could be doing to him!"

Piper telegraphs a look of appreciation, "If we keep the crystals in, then she will be fooled into thinking that she still has control over us. We can stage a surprise attack." Piper's features harden in rancor, eyes shadowed and piercing, "Then, we can finally get rid of Master Cyclonis once and for all." The tremble of premature triumphant finality is echoed by those present in the room. The girl resists the urge to roll her eyes; the plan is unrealistically simplistic as if they are dealing with a dumb animal, who could be fooled so easily.

"That is rather a good plan, Piper." Starling commends her. "Once we make sure Aerrow is alright-" Piper continues, resolution shinning in her eyes, "We will start the battle plan I have devised.." Piper lets the words flow from her lips, the weight that had threatened to suffocate, nearly drove her mad with anguish abates as she shares her plan with the rest of them. It is real like the breath in her lungs and the ghost of tears that still cling stubbornly to her face. The hope of seeing Aerrow again. Receiving his charming, affectionate smiles. Admiring the scintillations of gold on fiery red during the heat of battle. Without him, the sky had lost some of its energetic beauty.

They pay close attention and study her diagrams, so much so they miss the alteration to Piper's pleasant facile. A venomous, foreboding twist to her pink lips. _'Soon Master Cyclonis. You will pay for taking Aerrow from us. I have a special crystal for you. One that will make sure your wicked, evil soul writhes in agony and torment._'

The girl perks her ears and listens attentively, not because she had any plans of being involved. It might be useful information. "We have a plan and we have the means to get there to put it into action." She speaks up when everyone quiets down, "So everyone in!" Their eager, determined expressions and enthusiastic cries make her smile inspite of herself. '_They look like happy lambs before the slaughter.'_

Brushing her hair past her shoulder, she embarks on an exploration of the Condor. It is an interesting ship to put it lightly but she is hardly impressed having witnessed the progress of far superior technology. "Jasmine!"A voice calls to her. She turns around, an amiable smile rises to her lips and is reflected in her eyes, "Hi, Starling. I was just going for a walk around the ship!"

As the blue haired woman drew closer, a trickle of dread descends Jasmine's spine. There is an unnatural ambiguity and a cold tint in her eyes. The stern set to her lips gives Jasmine the impression of a displeased school teacher, marching to bestow reproach. "I know. I wanted to talk to you." There is nothing in her voice to hint that Starling is angry with Jasmine over something. Jasmine waits expectantly.

"Your Grandfather, Councilor Vilcox told me-about your assignment. The one that is secret and separate from the outlined rescue mission."

Fury sizzles under her skin and nails dig into palms but her countenance retains their affability. She wants to smash her fist into dear Grandpa's face for once again proving to be an intrusive, controlling ass. Knowing him, Starling is the babysitter. "What did Grandpa tell you?" Smiling pleasantly, "Obviously some embarrassing commands like you should watch over me and make sure I stay out of trouble."

"Actually, he said I should watch **out** for you." Starling replies evenly, "Said you were unpredictable and could be a liability."

Jasmine laughs it off, though her chest tightens and anger washes over her in a wave, "Why would Grandpa say something like that-probably getting senile in his old age." The bite to the last sentence is too audible for Jasmine's liking. However, it has no effect on Starling's demeanor. "Well, the reason he gave me is because of the person your brother is." Starling searches for a reaction but finds none and whatever the thoughts that are flitting through Jasmine's head, they are concealed under a layer of blank cordiality.

"Your brother is the Dark Ace."

Jasmine blinks rapidly and Starling recognizes that movement as restrained annoyance, "So, Grandpa spilled the beans. Either he doesn't have much faith in me or he wanted to share his prejudice." A thread of bitterness and a dry, heated intonation cradles her words.

Starling is silent, reading the young girl is not an easy task for she keeps her true nature under careful constraints. When the Councilor intimated her on Jasmine, Starling was horrified that a trusted Councilor could nurture such a terrible secret, keep it buried and protected under a string of lies and deceit. He had explained it was for a greater good, then had further revealed what he considered the greater good.

"You haven't given him a reason to trust you. " Starling retorts, she is no way coming to the Councilor's defense but repeating what she was told and using wily means to appraise the girl before her. Except for the dark hair, the resemblance is that of her mother, Dennis. All the better to confuse spectators, lure them into false security, it is a trick perfected by her brother. The hidden meaning in the Councilor's words couldn't be misconstrued. It had appalled her that the man had such an opinion of his only granddaughter, but then, evidence was presented.

"The psychological report said you were a bit of a sociopath." Her words are quietly, equably delivered but they have obviously struck a nerve.

The simmering beast that has so far been contained rears its ugly head, thunder flashes violently in her eyes and tension rips through her small frame. "So you trust a bunch of quacks to make assumptions on a person." The brutal edge of scorn evident in her tone and even though it is not outwardly visible, Starling can detect a sneer, "Wonder why you didn't believe them when they said you couldn't be a Sky Knight any longer. Because of post traumatic stress disorder bought on by witnessing the death of your team mates-after you failed them." The utter callousness of the remark strikes her hard but aside from the slight downturn to her lips, Starling will give Jasmine no other satisfaction. The seconds drag on, the air is thick. Starling appears to be mediating on some great question, while Jasmine is stewing, upset that her intentions have been trusted with a person who will undoubtedly prove a hindrance. "Are you going to help me or not?" Jasmine questioned woodenly, when she couldn't stand the tumult silence any longer. "Yes, I was instructed to help you." Her admittance is like an ominous, sour chill to Jasmine's bones, but she can't help but notice that Starling isn't particularly happy about the duty and there is a glint of a disturbance in her gaze.

Knowing the reputation of the renowned Starling, it would have been more plausible if she had renounced the mission but she was prevented from saying no because…it clicked into place. "The Councilors wouldn't let you go to the Farside to rescue Aerrow unless you agreed to help me. That is the only reason, isn't it?" The outburst stuns Starling, it is surprising that a young girl of 16 could have figured it out so easily. Then, Starling's brows slacken into the cool, unreadable visage that greets most people, the sinister smirk that tugs on Jasmine's lips fills the older woman with fresh unease and distrust. There are just too many traces of her brother lurking within the personality of the cute girl. Her Grandfather claimed to know her the best and even he was vehement that the siblings shared certain personality traits. Nevertheless, could Jasmine actually bring herself to imitate the terrible conduct of the Dark Ace? Could she invest herself in the ultimate act of betrayal?

"Are you really planning on doing it?" Fastening her with a thinly-veiled look of judgmental disapproval.

A touch of balefulness seeps into Jasmine's appearance, draining the little childish prettiness that youth bequeaths. It deepens the sunken, sullen expression that she suddenly wears too comfortably.

"Yes, Starling." The quality is cool and emotionless, invokes frigid nails to prick a pattern down Starling's back. "I plan on killing my to Grandpa he was the mistake and not me."

"Why?" The question escapes from her before she can rein it in, she knows why. All the sordid details had been given to her.

Jasmine has in no way mastered the vicious, contemptuous airs put on by her brother but she is not above trying her best. "Dearest Grandpa kept the best tidbits to himself. How sad! Guess he doesn't trust you all that much."

Starling's lips thinned, cagily eying the impudent youngster, "He told me everything." Replies in deadpan dryness, "But can you really stomach the idea of killing family, spilling your blood."

"Dear Brother is a half-breed." She retorts carelessly, instigating a wryly, bitter chuckle but it sounds like a high, forced whine of a failing ride, "I know he is alive on the Farside. My mother died when she confronted him and he escaped without punishment. It is a blemish on everything the family name stands for and I am the rectifier." Starling notes how her voice sounds so solid and sure and memorized but there is an undercurrent of malice that has more to do with a different issue entirely, perhaps parental abandonment. Starling thought it better not to try to analyze the girl; the psychologists did a good job of it already.

"Fine. I will provide you with whatever assistance you may need." Starling presents the small assurance, dully; it does not have the conviction that usually wells up inside her. Now, she wants nothing more than to return to the others, comrades, friends she can trust and who are open with her.

Starling can feel the heat of Jasmine's glare on her back. "That's it. You're not going to say anything about the planned murder. I thought Sky Knights were better than the rest of us. Above petty revenge!" The aggressive, nasty snark reverberates in the narrow hallway following Starling until she shuts the door behind her with a hard clunk. Jasmine grits her teeth, peeved that the woman just blatantly ignored her. "You refused to kill Repton for destroying the Interceptors but you will assist me in-murdering the Dark Ace. Hypocrite!" She snarls under her breath, chest heaving and eyes smoldering at the place Starling was standing. The inner sides of her mouth are sizzling and she wants nothing more than to throw more insults to quench the raging inferno within her, but there is no target. Jasmine exhales on a single rushed breath, her animosity and frustration. 'Thank a higher power; I am not a Sky Knight. I would be tempted to betray them like Virgil,the Dark Ace. He is not family. If he was-I would not be so eagerly awaiting the chance to kill him.'

**The Farside**

"Are you positive?" Screech's voice is deceptively soft and coaxing but the harsh, menacing glower from restless green eyes is an obvious indication of the consequences if she was to be caught in her lie. Shaking her head, the answer is repeated with louder firmness. The tautness of her scaly skin relaxes and she nods in acceptance, ears flickering. "Your Queen thanks you for your assistance."

She watches the squadron depart with a roar of engines and a flurry of dust. It is only when they are a speck on the horizon that the heaviness clamped around her chest subsides. Hands let the grime and sweat rub into the coarseness of her hair by running them through it. Then, she turns around to walk the distance into her home.

Opening the door, she enters and surveys the emptiness of the room. _'He'll be back soon.'_

It is some time before she hears the heavy thud of his footsteps and despite the threat that hangs over her head, pleasure ripples to calm the stormy ocean of her blood. "Dante!" She jumps to her feet from her sitting position on the sofa. The narrow planes and razor-edged corners of his features soften and the crimson severity to his eyes dims to a small fire. "Alois, Is everything ok?" It is unnerving that he can intonate something as intimate as concern so it sounds boring and tediously perfunctory.

"Everything is fine." Chirps brightly and then her voice grows subdued, "The Royal Guard came asking for you again. They found your armor and were asking people if they saw or heard anything about a Cyclonian Commander ."

Dante averts his gaze to the window to study the shimmering flow of cobalt that is the sky.

"Maybe she is worried about you. They have been putting a lot of effort into the search for you. " Her tone is empathetic; trying to reach and pet soothingly the part of him that has been badly burned.

A surge of hot emotion erupts in his head and clouds his eyes. The stillness in his irises turn acidic and bloody and he blinks back instincts similar to a raging animal. '_She didn't care about him. If she had even a shred of regard for her Dark Ace, her Champion and loyal soldier-she wouldn't have-she wouldn't have dared-to marry Aerrow!'_

The image of his beloved Master and his worst enemy, standing side by side. She was draped in the ceremonial Cyclonian wedding attire. It looked awful. A terrible tangle of purple lace and black satin, riddled in beads and shiny sequences. Moreover, it fitted poorly on her lithe frame; the tawdry material eclipsed the dark, sultry beauty of the young woman. The reason the former Masters designed such a gown is so that future generations would be predisposed against marriage; Master Cyclonis shared this tidbit with him while on a mission.

Her skin is too pale, resembling delicate bone china. Her eyes, an incandescent combination of amethyst and gray, highlighted by the outline of charcoal. Their brightness lends to her enigmatic persona, which is in complete opposition to marriage and all its so-called unity and frivolity. He recognizes the marriage is a strong political move in a place where there is respect for a strong union, but it doesn't convince him to relinquish his acrimony.

Of course, to say that Dante was not pleased with the miserable, suffering atmosphere that thickened around Aerrow was an understatement. However, he would have been much more satisfied if the Dark Ace was the one responsible for the Sky Knight's despondency and helplessness. If he was a man lost in a desert, hungry and wanting for many days, then stumbled upon a twelve story chocolate, vanilla and fudge, topped with whipped cream ice cream sundae. Dante reckoned the feelings would be the same. No, watching the utter humiliation of a Sky Knight is twice as delicious particularly since Cyclonis didn't proffer any mercy.

_"As a final seal to bind the marriage contract for eternity, a kiss must be shared to signal the beginning of this union." The official said, eyes shifting between the two._

_Aerrow and Cyclonis hold each other's gaze with noticeable distaste, his carries a little more loathing and disgust while hers had traces of belittling disdain. Yes, people everywhere spoke of the longevity of the marriage-one that just might end in love and mutual respect- but more predictably death. _

_Aerrow was the more reluctant of the two, displaying vivid aversion to the act. Cyclonis decided to do the practical thing or maybe she just wanted to make him squirm for old time's sake. Grabbing his neck, she pulled him into a rough, bruising kiss. Aerrow choked, writhing under the onslaught. 'The pathetic boy will have to get used to being manhandled by a girl.' Dante chuckled. _

_Alright, so maybe he did enjoy the ceremony a little bit, the face Aerrow made after she detached from him is priceless. His face is pinched and contorted; he wanted to say something hateful but cannot and the impotent, bitterness that taints his cheeks is as red as his hair. It is complemented by the drop of blood that welled up on his bottom lip. "He is such a masochist!" Master Cyclonis answered glibly at the bridal ceremony, explaining away the behavior at the Altar._

_She is indeed as vicious as he remembered, he had thought fondly. The Storm Hawk still had an inkling of heroic pride remaining; Dante observed, but no matter Master Cyclonis would rid him of the futile quality as he continued in her servitude. She had no use for her Dark Ace._

_Dante had monitored sullenly the rest of the proceedings, the close proximity to which Aerrow maintained to his Master was infuriating. He trailed after her, __, incessantly flanking her as she met officials and conversed with citizens, silent and watchful__-he had seized the Dark Ace's position. __Or had she chosen Aerrow for that unexpressed purpose. Dante tasted acerbic ash at the back of his throat. _

"Dante." Alois retrieves him from his reverie with her kind, gentle tone. Her touch on his shoulder feels like lead, weighing him down to the site. He glances at her sweet, compassionate gaze hooked on him and the sparkle in azure eyes that allude to the emotion called love or adoration. Dante cannot stem the regurgitation of his old personality rising to rebuke him. '_Let Master Cyclonis do with the Storm Hawk as she wished. It is over. Never again will I allow myself to be used as a pawn by that wretched woman.' _A crippling wave of arid iciness crept over his skin and dried out his mouth. Even though he no longer wore the uniform or fostered the ideals of a Cyclonian-the sting of his own betrayal pierced him ruthlessly.

**Happy New Year! I was a little dissapointed that my last chapter didn't get as many reviews but never mind. Please be sure to give me extra reviews so I can reach thirty. Thank you all for the support and I hope you love this chapter for the New Year. The extra-big chapter is a New Year's present so I expect big, detailed reviews. Please read/review. Ciao  
**


	7. Chapter 7

Cyclonis didn't like this sudden onslaught of helplessness, but she knew she is trapped between the hard wall of his chest and the soft, comfort of the mattress. The press of his weight on her is suffocating. Panic can overwhelm her at any second. However, it is more important that nothing of the emotions that churns in her stomach be made visible to Aerrow. Evidently, he is trying to win this game of manipulation by using more primitive means. As if she has had no prior dealings with cavemen-like brutes trying to overtake her with a mere performance of strength-pathetic.

"I usually just take what I want Aerrow." Her voice sinfully saccharine, "I doubt you have the guts to do what is really on your mind. Just remember, I am not sweet, little Piper." Brandishing a smile, revoltingly smug, "So if you think you can take control of me so easily. You're very wrong."

Impulsively, the might of his grip encircling her neck increases and in his eyes there is the fierce focus of a mountain lion while his mouth bares the animal's scowl down on her. '_I will not be beaten by **her**!'_ He swore.

There is something sensual in her gaze mingling with the wicked and the effect is heightened by the faint, evocative smirk that shapes her lips into what can be conceived as flirtatious, but he knows her to be scheming and devious.

Because of this, his mouth is next to her ear, breath scorching, "You can never compare to Piper. She has more style, talent and charm and you can't even imitate an ounce of it. And- (pauses to catch his breath) she is not so desperately needy for affection that she has to stoop to rape. Not like a lonely, bitter girl I know."

Breath hitches in her throat, eyes widen and she stiffens under him. Aerrow feels a dart of triumph on perceiving the drastic alteration to her profile. Stunned and slightly stricken. The evaporation of her malevolent confidence rids her of her intimidation completely. It is wonderful. For the first time in this day, pride swells up inside Aerrow.

Then, her expression changes, anger screws her features into a terrorizing scowl. "I wasn't going to do anything to you, Sky Knight. I don't know what Piper has done to feed your ego but I have better taste in men. I prefer them not to be so whiny, naïve and easy to manipulate." Flaunting a frigid, cutting sneer, raising her head slightly so the burning revulsion from her full-blown irises penetrates into his skull.

Their eyes are locked in an intense, unrelenting stare neither wanting to be the first to turn away. Electricity charges the air around them and time stands sedentary for tense seconds.

Finally, Aerrow releases his hold on her and slowly relieves her of his weight, eyes not breaking the contact. Frustration bubbles in her gut but her face is stonily solid and cool as ice.

Aerrow tears his eyes away only to pick up the towel from the ground and swathe his lower body in it. Then, he proceeds to the wardrobe but halts for a parting shot, the gesture almost as an afterthought. "Your standards fit the lowest of the low, Cyclonis. I am thankful for the compliment thought it was small and unintentional. If you want –I can check Atmosia's prisons for your future 'bed-partner'." Gave the title a deprecating inflection to make it sound demeaning and-cheap thereby slyly insulting her as well.

Nails dig into the comforter of the bed, gritting her teeth; a piercing look is aimed at his back as he walks to the wardrobe to dig around in its depths. '_How dare he!"_ The screech vibrates in her head. She cannot exert any restraint on her capricious impulse. Jumping off the bed, she moves towards him in rapid strides. Fury warps her countenance into a seething, dangerous entity. Aerrow follows her movements guardedly, standing his ground. Fists balled by his side.

Cyclonis stops in front of him, then a grin leaks into the surface of her facile that is constructed from demonic fervor and toxic fire. "You're pitiful Aerrow. You know that every time you forget your place- you allow me the opportunity to hurt your friends in Atmosia." Horror is splayed so deliciously on his face; she feeds upon his look, on its apprehension, alarm and a tinge of regret. "You can't!"

"Did I not just give you a live demonstration a few days ago?" Cuts him off viciously, the evil glint in her eyes gives one the impression of nasty thorny wire, the kind currently cinching his throat and pinching to his airway with its points. He can't breathe except in small gasps tainted in rancor.

"You recall how your dear friends were fighting the Necros. How they nearly died because you made a grievous error in judgment. They were punished for your insolence. Finn spent 10 days in the healing pod and Piper-she was such a distraught mess. I can do worse to them." Exhaled on a single, heated breath that slices right into him, the nuances of promise to the last sentence curdles his blood and causes his heart to smash into his ribcage.

Aerrow takes a few seconds of shaky breaths to summon something close to his strong, obstinate voice, "I am sorry, Master Cyclonis. I am but a lowly servant in service of greatness -" It takes all his power and focus to dredge the words from the arid, constricting tunnel of his throat, "You are a remarkable, amazing woman who deserves respect and loyalty. I humbly beg for your forgiveness for treating you unfairly."

Eyes appear shadowed and far, as if he is trying to imagine someone else in Cyclonis' place to input meaningful emotion into his speech. A slow smirk slithers across her lips to twist it into a sneer. It is the most fun thing to perceive, Aerrow, the Sky Knight debasing himself before her. After enduring Aerrow's gallant speeches, it is a welcome change. Him- humiliating himself for her benefit. Glee bubbles inside her, body flushes with pleasure. But it is not enough, she doesn't feel wholly satisfied, there is a simmering desire for more. Aerrow may appear submissive, head inclined towards the floor, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast and his lips moving meekly to assuage her pride.

The capitulation radiates from him, tasting like tangy chocolate on her tongue but it is there-beating, waiting and maybe plotting. The heart of his father. Unyielding, courageous and loyal to Atmos. If Master Cyclonis wants a dedicated servant to fulfill her whims, every last vestige of a Sky Knight should be ripped off his bones and sucked from his blood.

"That is good. Aerrow. But I want less of a vocal apology and more-of an 'active' one." Stepping into his personal face. Something sinister and vindictive lurks in her gaze and it freezes the blood in his veins because the implications are too terrible and nauseating in their clarity. She expects him to submit to her deviances without a fight. She wants from him every little shred of dignity that is encompassed in his soul, white and clean, she wants to sully it.

Aerrow has no choice.

**For the Alert mongers, you better be allergic to the review button or have some good reason why! If you can alert, then review otherwise shame on you! Ok, extreeeemeeely dissapointed I didnt get my 30 reviews and I lost some of my regulars. So, either my story is getting boring or everyone is stuck on an island with no internet connectivity. Sorry to be harsh but until I get 33 reviews, no more updates. Kidding, But reviews tell me I am loved so REVIEW please! Oh, one more thing. Jasmine is Dark Ace's sister.  
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	8. Chapter 8

Expectation colors her gaze, a wry smile, eyes unfathomable and glimmering from the darkness around them that stirs in stark disquiet.

The words have the desired effect of rendering him speechless in personal turmoil. Indecision tints his features that are tense and hinted at helplessness. The gaze from amethyst is coolly complacent and mildly taunting. Nothing belies the trembling anticipation at tasting a sliver of victory.

Aerrow leans forward to take her lips in a kiss, soft and tentative. She can sample his reluctance and the bitter aversion behind the sweetness; it sends frissons of delight through her body. He caresses her lips gently, almost placating.

_'This kiss tastes so good-No-winning tastes even better.' _

Abruptly she pulls away, wearing a pleased expression, one that rarely shined through the twisted shadows that portray dark emotions on alabaster skin, "Not bad. But you really did hurt my feelings." A mocking, caustic laugh in her voice and she makes a face that is supposed to be demure but it doesn't fit on her vile demeanor, "Which is why I think you can make it up to me by consummating our marriage. Now" Tone hardening to silk-coated steel to stab into him.

A strange numb iciness drenches his body, limbs move woodenly offering no resistance to the touch, as frigid and biting as the highest point on the ceiling of Atmos. She leads the way. Sharp amethyst eyes pierce his soul through a metaphorical shattered mirror, distorted and disturbed, and he can perceive himself suffocating and bleeding among the pieces.

'_I have to do this. I have to keep them safe._' The thought is a small comfort. It keeps alive the belief in himself. The self that is noble and self-sacrificing. It chains away the repulsion, his loathing for her. The gravity of what he is about to surrender leaves him with a feeling of vertigo in his chest. Wordlessly, she sits on the bed and falls on her back. Dragging him on top of her. Mesmerized in drugged and horrid fascination by the play of shadows and sly wickedness on her face. Breathing is uneven and shallow; he swallows thickly the sandpaper lodged in his throat. '_I can do this. I can-do this thing-for her-to her.'_

Sweat dots his hairline and the skin of his palms. The roar of a blood in his ears is distracting. Her breath on his face singes like the warm sizzle of an energy blade. Violet orbs cackle and flash, eyelashes flicker in morbid amusement. A sinister, on the thin precipice of sadistic, smirk dances on her lips.

_'It is one thing to kiss her but when the kissing is a precursor to something entirely different. Something I am not ready for-I don't want to share it with her of all people.'_

"Why are you dawdling? Aerrow" A thread of irritation in her demand, eyebrows arch in a gesture of impatience. Nails bite into his forearms. A wince of displeasure and Aerrow eyes her warily. Unsure, perturbed and alone.

Lips carry the faintest suggestion of a sneer and it dawns on him that without meaning to-he has indulged in her sick kind of foreplay. His distress is her aphrodisiac. Face smoothens to blank stone in quiet resolve to hide the tumult of emotions that winds his muscles into thick coils. Hard, jagged emeralds glitter down at her.

'_Piper, I care so much for you. What would you think if you saw me now? Could you forgive me? Could my friends forgive me? I wish you guys were by my side. I need my friends. I didn't think it would be so tough being away from them -obsessing over the constant danger they are in. I'm going mad. She is driving me insane."_

_"_Aerrow!" Voice penetrates through his thoughts, severe and forceful. He tenses because of it. "What are you waiting for?" There is such a wealth of emotion in his eyes that she can't pick any individual one vying for dominance.

'_He must be feeling so weak and impotent. His world crumbling into ruin around him. Now he knows how I had felt after the destruction of my Terra. Useless, pathetic –both him and me for trying to live our wretched existence despite having lost everything and everyone that made us whole._'

**Sorry for taking so long to load but I have two jobs. And I am currently doing a little dance in my living room for all the cool reviews I got. Thank you. I will try to update quicker otherwise you will all lose interest and I don't want that..So I hoped you enjoyed this and the next one is coming soon. I hope. Love you all!  
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** reviews tell me I am loved BACK so REVIEW please!  
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